Partners in Crime
by CaptainGrake
Summary: When a young Maura Isles moves to Boston to attend the first Female Medical School, she meets an exciting girl called Jane Rizzoli. As she finds herself drawn to this new family, Jane's dark past begins to surface, threatening everyone involved. AU Rizzles set in the 1800s.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **I wanted to have a go at writing an AU rizzles story, and although this wasn't my original plan, 19th century Boston just sounded so cool.

Let me know what you think about the concept. Any feedback would be awesome! Hope you like it :)

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Maura stepped gracefully off the boat, both hands lifting the hem of her skirt. Frenzied sounds of activity bustled around her and she breathed deeply, noting the slightly briny tang in the air. Gulls called overhead as she eyed her new surroundings and her new home – the famous city of Boston. As the shouts of the mariners rang out, Maura's mind revelled in the thoughts of the Sons of Liberty throwing crate after crate of British tea into the waves below. She was in the birth place of the American Revolution and she couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement. Composing her features, she demurely moved to the side so several sailors could disembark behind her, carrying her trunks and boxes. Careful consideration was given to the handling of Bass's cage, which was loaded gently on to the top of the carriage waiting by the quayside along with the rest of her luggage. A small gaggle of children had paused to point at the tortoise and she shot them a quizzical look. It was as if they had never seen a creature like it before. She opened her mouth to inform them it was merely a giant variety of the _Geochelone sulcata_, originating in Northern Africa on the Southern edge of the Sahara desert, but was distracted when one of the men cleared his throat loudly.

"That's the last of your things miss."

"Ah," Maura nodded her head and reached into her purse to pull out a coin, which she promptly handed over. "Thank you for your assistance, it was most appreciated." She gave him a polite smile and turned to the carriage.

"Not from around these parts eh miss?" replied the sailor quickly, giving her a wide grin.

Maura's head tilted slightly to the side and a small puzzled expression flitted across her face. Social cues had never been her strong point and she was confused by the sailor's sudden attempt at friendliness.

"No, I've spent most of my life in Europe. England and France mainly," she offered, making her way towards the coach. The sailor immediately fell into step beside her, "but I've visited many of the most culturally significant parts of Italy, Spain and Greece as well."

"Wow," he said, rubbing his hands together, "Not only mighty pretty, but mighty well travelled too..."

Suddenly the sailor's intentions were all too clear and Maura was caught off guard by the boldness of his words. She found herself stopping to stare at him, eyes wide. His blunt and unrefined manner of speech, mixed with the heavy local accent was unlike anything she'd heard before. She knew she was an attractive woman – many people had told her so and she had no reason to doubt them; she even purposefully dressed in the latest fashions to accentuate her best features – but never had she been addressed with such audacity. Tries for her affections were often hidden behind much more delicate phrases…

When she didn't reply the man gave her a slow wink and stepped in front of her to open the door to her coach. Maura felt the colour rise to her cheeks.

"So what brings you to Boston then?" he asked, offering his arm for support. Maura carefully avoided it as she grasped the wooden frame to pull herself up onto the plush red seat. Smoothing her skirts she composed herself.

"I came here to dissect bodies," she replied, slowly meeting the young sailor's eye.

It was his turn to pause.

"I'll be doing other things as well such as setting bones and wrapping bandages I suppose... Then of course there will be surgeries and amputations. Administering medicines as well… My main area of interest is autopsy though..."

Maura noticed the colour drain from the young man's cheeks as she spoke.

"I'm attending the Boston Female Medical School," she explained with a smile, hoping to clear up any confusion.

The man merely nodded and started to edge towards the ship.

"Have you heard of it?" Maura enquired, confused by his sudden change in behaviour.

"Yes miss," he muttered, touching the brim of his cap, "Cutting people up and the like. But if you'll excuse me, I have to get back..."

"Oh, certainly..." replied Maura slightly sadly as she watched the sailor turn and scuttle up the gangplank and out of sight.

His reaction had been extreme, yet she'd witnessed something similar a hundred times before. People always became uncomfortable when she discussed her interest in the human body. Personally, she believed medicine to be a laudable and fascinating profession; one which required years of hard work and mental prowess. One in which there was still so much to discover, to improve, to perfect...

The adverse reactions of others when she raised the subject were deeply puzzling to her.

From what she had read, Boston had seemed to be a particularly progressive city; they'd erected one of the first female medical schools (to which she was headed) in 1848 and they'd passed the Fugitive Slave Law in 1850, becoming a bastion for the abolitionist movement. Not to mention they had the Jordan Marsh department store, an elaborate transport infrastructure and a fully formed police force. Surrounded by universities and one of the forerunners in the fight for equality, Maura found it strange that even here her scientific bent was not more welcomed...

"Where are you headed for miss?" called the driver from the front, startling Maura out of her train of thought.

"Sorry, Beacon Street, if you please."

"Right-o. Nice area that," he called and the carriage jerked forward, wheels clattering over the paved streets.

After checking Bass was perfectly safe behind her, Maura pushed aside all thoughts of the young sailor and leaned back to survey her new surroundings. Her driver did not seem inclined to strike up any conversation and Maura was perfectly content to sit in silence and merely observe.

So this was Boston. It was noticeably different from the continent she was used to. Tall, whitewashed buildings rose up on either side of the wide avenue they were currently making their way along. Everything seemed bigger somehow, the people less reserved, more alive and definitely louder. Boys ran in the street calling to each other and housewives hung out of windows calling greetings to neighbours as they passed by with bags of groceries. Stalls piled high with fresh fruit or newly picked flowers occupied many of the corners and Maura had to resist the urge to jump down and purchase a few choice blooms. She couldn't wait till she had a chance to go shopping properly at the department stores. A new city clearly required new shoes to match. A few horse drawn carriages passed by, yet the majority of traffic seemed to be comprised of the street cars which rattled past on rails. Maura smiled. Boston was indeed a modern city.

As her coach clattered onwards, they left the bustle of the docks behind and moved towards one of the obviously wealthier areas. Apartment buildings were replaced by large, detached estate houses and housewives and paper boys were replaced by fashionable couples out for their gentile mid-afternoon walk. Now this was what Maura was used to. She admired the large hooped skirts worn by the women, which appeared to be the height of Boston style. Somewhat behind the fashions in Paris, Maura mused, but charming nonetheless. Subconsciously straightening her own dress – a beautiful piece she'd picked out at a small boutique along the Champs-Élysées – Maura let out a little mew of surprise as her coach came to an abrupt stop outside one of the larger houses.

"Here y'are miss," called the driver, twisting round in his seat, "That's a nickel for the ride."

"Yes, of course," replied Maura, regaining her composure and once again reaching for her purse.

"D'ya have someone for ya bags?" he asked as he took the money from her outstretched hand.

An uncertain frown briefly worried Maura's forehead, but before she could open her mouth to reply, the door of the house they had stopped outside burst open. A short smiling woman strode out, closely followed by a tall, dark haired boy.

"Miss Isles!" the woman called, in a friendly, excited tone, waving one arm in the air.

Maura was thrown by the unexpected, familiar greeting.

"Miss Isles!" she called again nearing the carriage, a wide grin on her face, "There you are... "

"Frankie, help her down from her carriage," she shot at the boy, who leapt forward to open her door. He also offered his arm, which Maura accepted as she clambered down. The boy gave her a small comforting smile. She tried to keep the confusion off her face.

"I'm sorry but..." she began, before the older woman cut her off with a bark at the boy behind her.

"Get her bags Frankie and carry them to the house."

Maura thought she heard a small groan come from the lad, but still he moved off to obey the request.

"Sorry about this Miss Isles," the woman continued, smiling once more at Maura, "we weren't sure what time you were coming. I'm Angela Rizzoli, and this is my son Frankie," she pointed to the dark haired boy who was delicately attempting to lift Bass's cage off the coach. Her eyes sparkled with affection. "I look after the house."

Maura let out a small sigh of relief; the housekeeper, of course. Her mother had mentioned there was a woman here.

"I do all the cooking and cleaning and other little things like that," the woman continued, "Just so you don't have to worry. I hope you like Italian Miss Isles…"

Inclining her head in a sign of thanks, Maura found herself smiling at the warmth radiating from this maternal woman who was clearly quite the conversationalist.

"Let me tell you," she whispered conspiratorially, "I was so excited when Mr Stanley told me a proper lady was renting the house this year. I thought, oh, she just has to meet my Jane. You'd like my Jane. Everyone likes my Jane. I think you're probably about the same age... She could show you around Boston!" she paused, evidently realising she'd been a bit forward, "If you'd like of course... It must be intimidating for such a refined lady as yourself to travel alone to a new city..."

Maura could do nothing but nod at this overwhelming deluge. Angela clapped her hands.

"But where are my manners, your journey must have been exhausting and now you're stood here listening to me talking away... Please, come inside, I'll fix you something to eat," and she beckoned to Maura, who found herself following willingly.

Sparing a quick apologetic glance for Frankie who was struggling to hoist the larger of her two trunks onto his shoulders, Maura hurried after Angela into her new house.

The interior of the building matched the exterior perfectly. Dark, hardwood floors covered the entrance hall, which was dominated by a large wooden staircase sweeping up the centre. A beautiful crystal chandelier hung above the scene and sparkled gently in the dim light of the afternoon. Angela directed Maura through a door to her left which led into a comfortably furnished parlour.

"Make yourself at home there Miss Isles. I'll bring you through something to drink."

Maura thanked her politely and perched herself on one of the cream sofas as Angela hurried away. A heavy silence seemed to hang in the air at the sudden absence of the housekeeper.

For lack of anything else to do, Maura gazed around at the room she found herself in. Several portraits stared back at her from the walls. Maura's highly trained artistic eye picked out their flaws almost instantly. A cursory glance at an expensive looking vase by the window revealed a cheap imitation of an old master; however, the table upon which it was stood was extremely well made. A solitary bookcase was resting in a far corner and before long Maura found herself up and gravitating towards it. The books seemed old and worn, clearly well loved in their time. She ran a gentle finger along their spines, removing one of the smaller ones from the shelf. A sudden bang from the front door caused her to jump.

Loud, boisterous voices carried through from the entrance hall. As far as Maura could tell one belonged to a young man and the other, despite its low, husky tone, sounded decidedly feminine. They appeared to be involved in a heated conversation and Maura found herself frozen as the voices came closer. Suddenly the door to the parlour swung open.

"Yeah well, I'm clearly just vastly superior to you."

A good-looking young man with dark skin, probably no older than about 17, crashed into the room smiling wildly.

"Shut it Frost, you know I would have got it if I'd even had a…"

The woman following him cut off abruptly as soon as she saw Maura standing in the corner, still clutching the book.

Maura had never seen anyone quite like her. She was impossibly tall and thin, her physique radiating an athleticism and strength rare to most women. Her hair was dark and tousled, falling in natural waves down her back, which complimented her olive skin tone and left no doubt in her Italian heritage. She wore a rather baggy, shapeless dress, which followed no fashions Maura knew of, yet it suited her perfectly. Her otherwise tough exterior was only marred by the subtle wrinkle of surprise in her forehead.

She was quite frankly a stunning woman.

And Maura was lost in her eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

Jane leant with her arms folded against the stone wall outside the Boston Police Department building. He'd been in there for what seemed like forever and she was starting to get impatient. This was a big day for Frost and Jane couldn't help but feel nervous for her best friend. Ever since Horatio Homer had been appointed as a BPD officer last year, paving the way for African American cadets, Frost hadn't wanted to do anything else. Jane had encouraged him of course. He was a bright kid and quick to learn. He was also one of the kindest people she knew, other than perhaps Sergeant Korsak. She couldn't think of a better candidate for the police department…

Well, maybe that was a lie, she could think of one person. One person who wanted to be a part of that institution more than anyone else could ever imagine. Her eyes glazed over as she stared at the bronze plaque hung above the giant wooden doors. '_Sicut Patribus Sit Deus Nobis, Civitatis Regimine Donata AD 1822_'. For the first time Jane wished she'd paid more attention in her Latin classes.

It didn't really matter though; women weren't allowed to carry the stick. She was just wasting her time on an idle fantasy.

With a scowl she kicked her heel back against the wall and cursed under her breath. What was taking so long? The butcher's boy was clearly eying her up from across the road and it was making her feel uncomfortable. She shot him a scathing look and he scampered back inside his shop.

Finally the familiar face of her friend appeared in the door way. Before he had a chance to make it down the steps Jane had pushed off from the wall and was striding to meet him.

"So?! How did it go?" she called, rubbing her hands together nervously.

Frost paused before a giant grin spread across his face and his eyes sparkled.

"I got it Jane."

Jane let out a whoop and pumped a fist in the air.

"Go Barry!" she shouted, punching him affectionately on the shoulder and the young boy smiled even more broadly.

"That's Officer Frost to you..."

With a grin, Jane shot back, "Shut up Frost. I should have known this would go straight to your head."

"And such a good looking head it is too…"

She shoved the laughing boy before running a hand through her unruly curls. "Well congratulations Frost, but I'm going home, the smugness here is unbearable."

She turned and started to stride off down the street. Frost quickly caught up and fell into step alongside her.

After a few moments he mumbled quietly, "You know… I couldn't have done it without you Jane." He tried to catch her gaze. "I know how much this means to you… and I know you wanted to be in there yourself. So I just wanted to say thanks. For helping me…" He trailed off as dark brown eyes met his.

"Don't mention it Frost," Jane replied gruffly, her face unreadable, "you'd have done the same for me."

Frost nodded seriously before a twinkle in his eye made Jane want to push him again.

"There's no need to get soppy about it..." Jane muttered; trying to ease the suddenly emotional turn the conversation had taken.

Frost said nothing, but continued to smile at his friend. He knew Jane understood and that he didn't need to say anything else.

For a while they walked in a companionable silence, but before long they struck up a conversation on the subject of baseball. Since the formation of the first major league, they'd been able to speak of little else. The fact that they'd met over a game of baseball only served to further fuel their passion for the sport. Jane had been loitering in the park, desperate to play with the local teams assembled there. Of course, no one had wanted a girl in their game. No one except Frost that was. He'd told her to join him and together they'd thrashed every other kid for twenty blocks. From then on they'd stuck together. They made an odd team, but a damn good one as far as Jane was concerned.

Before long, the pair turned into Beacon Street.

"You staying for dinner?" Jane asked, stopping outside the large whitewashed house. "The new tenants are coming some time tonight, so Ma will be going all out."

Frost rubbed his hands together, "You know I've never been able to say no to your mum's cannelloni."

"I hope she's made enough to fill that giant head you have..."

Frost laughed and swung the front door open casually. "Well I've gotta keep my strength up now. To protect and serve and all that." He proclaimed, bowing to Jane and motioning for her to pass through.

Jane rolled her eyes.

"I can't believe they gave you the job," she grinned, slipping past Frost into the hallway, "You're actually insufferable. Now if they'd met me…"

Frost snorted and pulled the door closed behind him. "Haha, oh they'd have loved your winning personality Jane."

This time Jane didn't resist the urge and shoved Frost towards the parlour.

"I can be charming… if I want to."

"Yeah well, I'm clearly just vastly superior to you." Frost winked at Jane and pushed open the parlour door.

Jane couldn't help but smile back, pushing a hand through her dark hair out of habit as she followed him into the room.

"Shut it Frost, you know I would have got it if I'd even had a…"

Her voice died in her throat as she noticed the unfamiliar woman standing in the corner of the room.

Jane had always felt slightly uncomfortable around other women, especially those with the grace and refinements she had never managed to adopt herself. Jane could tell from the immaculate way this woman was dressed and her perfectly styled hair that she was one of those high class ladies. Jane's eyes were drawn to her expensive dress, a pale pink (_she hated pink, but this shade really wasn't so bad_) which complemented her slim figure, accentuating her rosy complexion. Honey blonde curls were tucked back demurely; however a few had been loosened and fell down framing her face. She had an aristocratic nose, softened by the faint smattering of freckles across her cheeks. She was clutching a book so tightly her knuckles were white, and despite her faultless posture, she seemed to want to shrink back into the wall behind her. Her nervous hazel eyes were locked onto Jane's and seemed to be reading something there.

Jane realised with a jolt that this woman was very beautiful and was making her feel very nervous.

Frost coughed uncomfortably somewhere to her left and Jane snapped back into the present. Stepping slightly forward, she directed her winning Rizzoli smile towards the woman.

"Hi… sorry, we didn't know there would be anyone here… I'm Jane Rizzoli and this is my friend Barry," she said waving a hand in the boy's direction. Frost gave a toothy grin. "Uh, my Ma does the housekeeping here. I guess you must be the new tenant?"

With a little shake of her head, the woman seemed to come out of her trance and her perfect manners instantly took hold.

"I'm Maura, Maura Isles," she replied, returning Jane's smile; "It's a pleasure to meet you."

She stretched out her free hand and took a step forward. Instinctively Jane pulled her scarred hands behind her back and Maura stopped abruptly. Jane felt a surge of guilt as she saw the other woman's smile falter and the hurt flash behind her eyes.

A little O sound escaped Maura's lips before she clamped her mouth shut and pulled back her hand.

Before she could apologise, the kitchen door swung open, and Angela bustled in. Maura's mask drew back up and her smile returned, a little more forced than before. Jane cursed inwardly.

"Jane! You're back!" Angela called, setting her tray of drinks down on a nearby table, "I'm sorry Miss Isles, I didn't know what you wanted, so I hope coffee is okay?"

"Please, call me Maura," Maura replied, "And coffee is perfect, thank you Mrs Rizzoli."

"Oh, well then I insist on Angela." Angela beamed at Maura. "I see you've met my daughter. I hope she didn't startle you too much coming in… she has a habit of being rather noisy…"

"Maaa…" Jane moaned, her cheeks colouring.

"Barold! I didn't see you there! How did it go?" Angela said, turning to Frost.

Frost's grin nearly split his face in two as he replied, "I got it Mrs Rizzoli – they're taking me on as a Cadet."

Angela let out a squeal and wrapped Frost up in a bone-crushing hug. "Oh I knew you'd get it! A smart boy like you."

Jane saw Maura look away at the overly expressive show of affection, clearly uncomfortable. She embarrassedly cleared her throat.

"Uhh, Ma, shouldn't we leave Maura alone for a bit. She's probably had a long journey and she doesn't want to be subjected all our family stuff."

Angela looked a bit put off, but quickly agreed. "Yes, of course… sorry Miss Isles… Maura. Please, enjoy your coffee. Dinner won't be too long. Jane, Barry, why don't you come and help me in the kitchen?"

"Thank you Angela," Maura replied, picking up the cup of coffee and watching as Jane and Frost followed Angela out of the room.

"So what do you think?" Angela asked, turning to Jane as soon as the kitchen door had swung shut.

"Maaa… " Jane drawled.

"I think she seems lovely," Angela harrumphed, striding over to the fireplace, next to which her apron hung, "A little quiet maybe, but the poor girl is all alone in a new city." She pulled it off the hook and slipped it on over her head, expertly tying the strings behind her back. Picking up a box of eggs she turned back towards Jane. "She just needs a friend here, that's all." She said, staring into Jane's eyes meaningfully.

"I'd be her friend," Frost muttered to Jane and she shot him a look.

"What? She's hot Jane."

"Really Frost?"

"Who's hot?" Frankie panted, as he came into the room, red faced from carrying the last of Maura's luggage upstairs.

"Miss Isles," Frost replied in a low whisper.

Jane rolled her eyes.

"Oh Maura?" Frankie's face relaxed into a goofy grin, "Yeah… She's hot."

"Seriously, Frankie? You're both as bad as each other."

The two boys laughed conspiratorially and Jane had the sudden urge to bang their heads together.

"God, she's been here like ten minutes, treat her with a little respect," Jane snapped feeling inordinately protective. She was all too aware she'd already hurt Maura once today; she didn't need anyone else offending her.

Frankie put his hands up, "Woah, okay there Janie. No need to bite my head off."

"Yeah, sorry Jane," Frost said with a shrug of his shoulders, "We didn't mean anything by it."

"It's just… She's a real lady okay?" Jane said, trying to explain her outburst, "You shouldn't talk about her like that."

Frankie had the decency to look slightly abashed, before Jane continued, "She wouldn't want to date your sorry asses anyway."

Frost laughed and Frankie let out an indignant _'hey'_ as Jane jumped away from a joking punch thrown her way.

"If you're not all too busy gossiping over there, I could really use a hand with this dinner," Angela called, throwing a look over at the trio. It was a look that said she wasn't asking for their help, so much as telling… "I assume you're staying for dinner Barold?"

"If that's okay with you Mrs Rizzoli?" Frost replied, wandering over to the counter.

"Of course Barry, any time," Angela smiled. "Jane, why don't you go and show Maura up to her room? She might want to freshen up or unpack some things… And Frankie, come over here and chop these tomatoes for me."

Jane sighed but knew her mother was not to be argued with. Turning, she took a deep breath, and pushed back out into the parlour.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Thank you to the people who have taken the time to review! Feedback is awesome :)

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Maura sat on the cream sofa and slowly raised the cooling cup of coffee to her lips. Outwardly she appeared to sit and survey her new surroundings – her skirts neatly arranged and her ankles crossed demurely – but inside she felt a restless excitement.

Craning her neck she could just about peek out of the bay window into the street outside. Two young men were passing by, both deeply involved in an animated conversation. Maura watched as the taller gentleman with the flat cap gestured wildly, before breaking down into gales of laughter. His friend slapped him on the shoulder and they both passed from her field of view. A carriage rolled down the road at a brisk pace, causing a woman to hitch up her skirts in an effort to get out of its way and a gang of dishevelled children ambled along the street on the far side. It seemed that everyone in Boston had somewhere to be; somewhere to go. They were so full of life that Maura found they were completely at odds to any company she had been part of before.

So much was obvious from her very brief yet strangely exhausting introduction to the Rizzolis. From the overly familiar greeting to the demonstrative scene she'd witnessed in response to Barry's success, Maura's thoughts couldn't help but stray to her own mother and the stark differences between the two women. Where Constance Isles was cool and reserved, every inch the fashionable lady, Angela Rizzoli seemed warm and open, a welcoming motherly figure. The affectionate world she'd briefly glimpsed today could not have been further removed from the one in which she had grown up.

Full of professional and socially desirable relationships, Maura's life had been both culturally and intellectually stimulating. Her parents had given her every opportunity from a young age, leaving her free to pursue any avenue of interest she might have. When she struggled to find a university open to women, her parents had flown her to Europe and employed guides and tutors to teach her whatever she wished to learn. When she outstripped her tutors, she had been encouraged to take up research projects of her own. When she approached them with the intent to study medicine – her acceptance letter to the Boston Medical School clutched in a shaking hand – she had been greeted with ready agreement and a discussion of preparations for the move.

There had been no congratulations or out-pouring of pride, which Maura had not been surprised by. Her parents had asked what she needed and arranged it. Every possible eventuality had been accounted for.

And so it was. The fulfilment of Maura's intellectual and physical freedoms had always come at a cost – Maura had spent most of her life alone.

Her parents cared for her, she was sure, but open affection had never been their strong point. They were often so wrapped up in their own lives that Maura sometimes felt like an afterthought. The idea of Constance Isles hugging her as Mrs Rizzoli had done earlier was laughable. In fact, Maura realised, the thought of her mother hugging her at all was hard to imagine…

A small cough from behind broke her out of her daydream and she quickly turned her head. Jane was standing awkwardly by the door, hands clasped in front of her.

"Ma asked me to show you up to your room…" She said, cautiously eyeing the blonde.

"Oh… thank you," replied Maura, shaking her head a little to clear the recent thoughts from her mind. Carefully she placed her cup back into the saucer on the table and standing, brushed the non-existent wrinkles out of her skirt. She gave Jane a polite, but guarded smile – she hadn't quite forgotten the rebuttal of her handshake earlier. She didn't want to be caught out like that again.

Jane moved forward and pushed open the door to the hallway, "After you," she muttered holding it open for Maura to pass through. Maura inclined her head and Jane cleared her throat, not quite making eye contact.

As they stepped into the hallway, Jane quickly hurried to Maura's side.

"The dining room is through there," she pointed to the large double doors opposite the parlour. "The kitchens are out the back, and if you follow that corridor down there," she motioned to the side of the staircase, "you can find a study on your left and another sitting room further down on the right."

Jane paused as Maura stored this information in her mind; which the blonde was finding surprisingly difficult. The low, husky tone emanating from the brunette was oddly distracting.

"I… uhh… I'm afraid we don't have a library… but the study has a pretty good selection of books, for when you feel like reading." Jane broke in.

Maura turned her head sharply and her eyes widened in surprise.

"How did you know I like to…?" Maura began to ask, before Jane cut her off.

"When we came in… you were holding that book and… well I just guessed…" she tried to explain.

"Oh," replied Maura, at a loss for anything else to say. _This woman didn't seem to miss a thing._

Before she could help herself she had blurted out, "But you shouldn't guess."

Jane wrung her hands, fearing she'd unintentionally been rude again, before Maura rushed to clarify.

"I mean, you really didn't have enough data to draw that conclusion... We've only been in each other's company for a few minutes at most and it would have been better for you to assemble all the facts before starting to hypothesise."

Jane stared at the blonde and Maura felt herself beginning to blush under the penetrating dark gaze.

"It's the scientific method," she finished abruptly.

"I was right though wasn't I?" Jane asked. "About you liking to read?"

Maura blinked. "Well… yes… but…"

"Then does it matter whether I used the 'scientific method' or my gut feeling to reach that conclusion?"

Jane unconsciously placed her hands on her hips, shooting a defiant grin at the blonde. Maura's breath caught before her brain kicked in and processed what Jane had said.

"What does this matter have to do with your intestines?" she asked, confused.

Jane's grin slipped, "Pardon?"

"Your 'gut feeling'... Is it painful? Do you have tenderness anywhere?"

Maura automatically moved towards Jane before the brunette finally realised her mistake and hastily stepped away.

"Oh," said Jane "No, I'm sorry. My guts are fine." She flashed a reassuring smile at the blonde. "I forgot you're new to these parts. It's just a saying. It means, uhh, to go on instinct. "

Maura tried to process this new information. "So this has nothing to do with your actual intestines?"

Jane shook her head.

"You're saying you go on instinct rather than scientific reasoning?"

"Pretty much… It's never let me down so far," she replied with a shrug.

"Interesting," replied Maura, considering this new approach. In her brief experience she'd always found emotions to be vaguely unhelpful in the pursuit of truth. The cold rationality of science had been her comfort growing up.

In silence they began to climb the stairs, Maura hurrying slightly to keep up with the darker woman's long striding steps, her brain still whirring.

"So I heard you're attending the Female Medical School?" Jane asked, briefly glancing back over her shoulder.

Maura tensed as she mentally prepared herself for the usual fight to defend her career choice.

"Yes," she answered warily, "I got my acceptance letter the other week. I start on Monday." Jane nodded without turning round.

Not sensing any resistance, Maura continued.

"I find the human body endlessly fascinating. There's just so much to learn about it. Did you know blood is red because of the presence of a chemical known as haemoglobin?"

Jane raised an eyebrow at the random fact the blonde had just blurted out. She couldn't stop the corner of her lip twitching as she saw Maura move her hands excitedly to make her point.

"Or that there are 270 bones in the human body at birth, but as we age, they fuse together so that we're left with only 206 in adulthood?"

Jane broke out into a grin.

"I must say I've never heard of feelings stemming from your intestines, but I haven't started my training yet…" Maura shot a sly look at Jane.

Jane let out a gentle laugh at the subtle dig the blonde had just made. The shorter woman hadn't seemed one for humour. Catching the look on Jane's face, Maura blushed and finished quietly, "I just find the entire practice so absorbing… To study it has been a dream of mine for a long time."

"Well I think that's really impressive Maura," Jane replied smiling.

"You think it's impressive?" Maura repeated.

"Well, yeah. I mean, you have to be really intelligent to get in there. I don't know much about medicine, but I know it helps people and that's good enough for me," there was a brief pause as Jane considered her next words carefully. When she spoke, they were laced with emotion.

"I think it's great that you're following your dream. Not many people get to do that."

Maura dropped her head at the sincerity of Jane's words. "Thank you," she murmured quietly, as Jane set off down the dimly lit corridor.

"The master bedroom is this way," the dark haired woman called, "Frankie already brought all your bags up. There are fresh sheets on the bed and a wash basin on the stand." She threw open the door. "Dinner will be at seven. There's a bell."

Maura nodded politely and stepped into the well furnished although rather musty room. It was pleasant enough, but she was pleased that she'd brought her embroidered throws and goose down pillows from home.

"If there's anything else you need?" Jane asked from the doorway.

Maura turned and smiled, "No, thank you very much Jane."

Jane nodded but seemed hesitant to move from her current position. She again began to wring her hands, which Maura now recognised as a nervous habit.

"…About earlier…" Jane began hesitantly and Maura cocked her head to one side. "I'm sorry that I didn't shake your hand."

Maura tried not to look surprised; she hadn't expected an apology.

"It's just that my hands…" Jane continued, "well they're not very pretty to look at and… I didn't mean to be rude or offend you…"

"I understand," replied Maura, but Jane didn't appear to be listening; she was intently staring down at her hands splayed in front of her, a look of disgust plain on her face. For the first time Maura caught a glimpse and was shocked to see two angry pink gashes marring each of Jane's palms.

She couldn't help but let out a startled exclamation, "Jane what happened?"

Looking up, Jane immediately withdrew her hands and buried them deep in the folds of her dress. Her eyes darkened and Maura instantly regretted asking.

"Just some stuff… I don't like to dwell on it."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be forward," Maura replied contritely.

"No it's fine… It happened a long time ago…" Jane didn't quite meet Maura's eye. The two women stood in silence for a few seconds before Jane started again. "Well if you're all set here, I should probably get going."

"Thank you Jane." Maura replied sincerely, hoping to catch the brunette's gaze.

Jane only nodded silently, and without raising her eyes from the floor, turned and gently closed the bedroom door behind her.

For a few seconds Maura stood in the middle of the room, her eyebrows drawn together and her forehead softly wrinkled with worry. Everything had been going so well and then she'd managed to make it uncomfortable. Once again she had misread social cues and overstepped her mark, scaring away one of the first truly fascinating people she'd met in a long time.

But those marks on Jane's hands…

Maura knew from the extent of the scarring that those were horrific injuries. The radial, ulnar and median nerves travelled all the way down the arms and to sustain that much damage to any one of them… Maura shuddered involuntarily; she couldn't begin to imagine that level of pain. It had been entirely tactless of her to draw attention to an obviously agonizing memory.

She sighed, lowering herself onto the edge of the bed. She couldn't help but wonder what had happened to such an interesting woman though. Jane had been one of the first people to hold a real conversation with her in a long time. She was quite frankly an enigma and now that Maura had embarrassed her, one she would never have the opportunity to figure out.

Maura's eyes fell on the pile of suitcases by the window. She really should stop thinking about Jane Rizzoli and start unpacking. She wasn't usually one to sit and speculate. Mentally admonishing herself, she quickly opened the lid of her largest trunk. With a methodical neatness, she began to sort through her belongings.

Despite her best efforts her mind continued to ponder a certain tall, dark mystery…

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Dinner passed without incident. Maura sat alone in the dining room; Angela had brought in a tray of food and then left with nothing more than a smile. The food had been wonderful; Mrs Rizzoli was clearly a talented chef (Maura hadn't tasted cannelloni that good since she had actually been in Italy) but the soft clink of silverware in the empty room had been decidedly strange after such a stimulating day. She couldn't help but feel a little disappointed that Jane and Barry hadn't stayed for dinner after all.

With the sun beginning to set outside, the light in the dining room had started to dim and as Maura rose from the table Angela hurried in holding an oil lamp. With a nod she passed it to Maura and began to collect the empty plates from the table.

"I hope you found the food to your liking Maura?" the older woman asked.

"It was truly wonderful, thank you Mrs Rizzoli," Maura replied genuinely.

"I'm glad. It's an old family recipe, the kids could never get enough of it," she beamed as she picked up the last of the cutlery.

Angela straightened and turned to the blonde, standing just out of the way behind her, "If that'll be all for tonight Maura, I think I should be getting home."

The blonde immediately nodded, "Yes of course. Thank you Mrs Rizzoli."

"Angela, please," she reiterated with a motherly smile, proceeding Maura out into the hallway. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Have a good evening Angela," Maura called watching the figure retreat into the kitchen.

Holding her lamp out in front of her, Maura turned towards the staircase. Feeling suitably full she figured she could probably get in a few hours of study before bed. Despite the fact that she had already read her copy of 'Gray's Anatomy' from cover to cover twice, she had wanted to go over the chapter on the endocrine system just one more time…

Her head already deep in thoughts of the pineal gland and the pancreas, Maura failed to notice the shadowy shape at the end of the hallway.

"_Maura_?"

She turned abruptly at the sound of her name in that familiar husky drawl.

"Jane?" she replied, "You're still here?"

The tall brunette stood resting against the front door, seemingly even darker in the dusk half-light; her slouched posture an affront to every etiquette rule Maura had ever been taught. She found it quite enthralling.

"Yeah, I wanted to ask you something."

Maura nodded, at a loss for words.

"You said you have a few days before your school starts? Well, if you'd like, I could give you a tour of Boston?"

For a moment Maura could only stand mutely holding the lamp. Jane continued.

"It must be hard coming to a new city on your own. I thought it might be nice if you at least knew where you were going? I mean I know I'd like someone to show me around…" She trailed off and smiled at the blonde.

"It could be fun."

Maura replied quietly, "I'd like that."

"Great. Tomorrow then?" Jane beamed.

"Tomorrow," Maura whispered.

"It's settled. Have a good night Miss Isles," Jane said, finally eliciting a small smile from the blonde. With a wave, she pulled open the front door and disappeared into the evening air.

Maura remained transfixed as the front door swung shut with a soft click.

Maybe she hadn't ruined everything after all…


End file.
